The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63

– MAYA

The farm staff quarters were small, but warm.

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It smelled like cheap soap, old wood, and clean fabric drying on an improvised line by the window. The lamp on the nightstand cast soft shadows that moved across the walls, and I sat on my bed with my legs tucked in, watching Beatrice brush her hair like it was some sacred bedtime ritual.

She finished a section, tied it back with an elastic, and met my eyes in the mirror.

“I got us a day off from Mr. Stone.”

I blinked.

“Wait-what?”

Beatrice smiled, pleased with herself.

“Tomorrow. The whole day. He said we can do whatever we want, and he’ll pay us in advance.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

My heart kicked harder.

“Then we’re going to visit your dad’s friend?”

Beatrice stopped brushing instantly.

The brush hovered in midair.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at me like I’d just announced I wanted to dig a tunnel to the center of the earth..

“…Wow. You’re really fixated on that, aren’t you?”

I bit my lip, trying not to look desperate,

But I was.

I couldn’t help it.

“Sorry,” I admitted quietly. “I think about it almost every day. I just… I want to understand how everything happened. And somehow… something inside me keeps telling me I have to find him.”

Beatrice stared at me for a long second.

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Then her expression softened, just a little.

“You’re really feeling that, huh?”

I nodded.

“Painfully.”

She let out a breath.

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“Okay. Okay.” She pointed the brush at me like it was a weapon. “But if we go, you’re not allowed to make that face like you’re about to pass out halfway there.”

“I don’t make a face like I’m about to pass out.”

Beatrice lifted an eyebrow.

“Maya… you make that face even when you’re eating bread.”

I scowled.

“That is a lie.”

She laughed.

“Fine. If you want it that badly-and it matters this much to you-we’ll pack our bags and hit the trail tomorrow.”

A small squeal slipped out of me. I jumped off the bed and rushed to her.

“You’re the best person in the world.”

I threw my arms around her, and she immediately complained, shoving at me.

“Okay, enough! You’re clingy!”

“I’m grateful!”

“You’re clingy!”

I laughed, letting her go, and went straight to the trunk under my bed.

“Okay. Backpack. What do I bring?” I started pulling things out like I was preparing to escape

country,

the

Beatrice pointed like she’d done this a hundred times.

“Water. Food. A cloth. And a small knife.”

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“A knife?”

“Yes.”

“Is that normal?”

“In the forest? Yeah.”

I swallowed.

“Right… forest. Normal.”

Beatrice grabbed her own backpack and packed it with irritating efficiency.

“You have no idea how dangerous that trail can get.”

“I survived falling into a deep hole,” I muttered, tying up the cloth. “I can survive a hike.”

She laughed softly, zipping her bag.

“Get some sleep. We’re leaving early.”

I lay down, but it was useless.

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I stared at the ceiling, my heart beating too hard, like it already knew something was about to change.

And deep down…

I knew it too.

The next day, the forest felt like another world.

The air was cold and damp, smelling like crushed leaves and wet earth. The path was narrow, tangled with roots and hidden stones, and Beatrice walked ahead like she’d been born here.

She held a thick branch in her hand-part walking stick, part improvised weapon.

I followed behind, trying not to trip.

“Are

you sure this place even exists?” I asked, looking around. “Because so far I’ve only seen… trees. And more trees.”

Beatrice laughed without turning around.

“It exists. It’s just far. And before you start complaining… we haven’t even gone that far from the farm yet.”

“I’m not complaining,” I said with the most serious face I could manage. “I’m… appreciating. I love

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far places. Huge fan.”

She smiled, then stopped and pointed ahead with the branch.

“When we get there, don’t expect luxury, okay?”

“Okay.”

“It’s simple. Like, really simple. They still use oil lamps. Barely any electricity.”

I shrugged, honestly.

“I don’t care.”

Beatrice glanced at me.

“No?”

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“No” I adjusted my backpack strap. “I just want answers. If I have to sleep on the ground and eat stale bread to get them, I will.”

Beatrice’s smile turned gentler.

“You’re braver than you

look.”

“I’m not brave.”

“You are.”

I frowned like I didn’t like it.

But I did.

We kept walking, and for a few minutes, the world got too quiet.

Quiet in the wrong way.

I felt it first.

That crawling sensation of being watched,

I stopped in the middle of the trail.

“Beatrice…”

She stopped too.

“What?”

I whispered, barely moving my lips.

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“Do you hear that?”

She frowned.

The wind moved through the trees.

And then… a snap.

A branch breaking behind us.

My heart jumped.

Beatrice tightened her grip on the branch.

“Stay behind me.”

“Behind you?” I repeated, offended and terrified at the same time. “I’m taller than you!”

“Still.”

Another sound.